A Second Chance: OutTakes
by Biff McLaughlin
Summary: Complements my "A Second Chance" stories. Rated M for suggestive scenes. Various pairings.
1. Chapter 1

_**An Extension to Chapter 5: Redcliffe**_

When Kallian returned to their room, she found that Zevran had lit several candles as well as putting more logs on the fire and the room seemed to sparkle. He was on the bed, naked, golden hair, bronzed skin and well-defined muscles gleaming. Stopping at the end of the bed, Kallian slowly pulled her dress off and draped it over a nearby chair as she kicked off her shoes. She was naked beneath her dress, which aroused him. Climbing onto the bed, she crawled to him and straddled his hips.

"You really are very handsome, Zev, but I suppose you know that."

"I do, but I would much rather discuss what it is I intend to do to you this evening, my dear."

"Oh?" The feel of him hardening under her was inciting her passions.

"I seem to recall you wanted me to gag you, and I thought since I am going to gag you, I might as well tie you up, too." He quirked his eyebrow at her and held out a few pieces of rope and a strip of cloth.

"_Oh_." She crossed her wrists and held them out in front of her, a mischievous smile on her face.

_It seems there is no end to the surprises this woman has in store for me._

"So willing and eager to play the game? How very fortunate for me." He had a length of rope wrapped with cloth looped around her wrists and was tying it up before she could respond.

"Ah…are there rules to this game, Zev?" Kallian licked her lips, looking a bit nervous.

"First, you must do what I tell you, with no questions or smart comments."

"_Smart_ comments? When have I…?"

Zevran gave the rope around her wrists a sharp tug and pulled her down to his chest. "Tut, tut. What is the first rule?"

Kallian smirked. "I must do what you tell me, with no questions or smart comments."

"So you _were_ paying attention, yet you broke the first rule immediately. Do you _wish_ to be punished?" He pushed her back up to a sitting position, an eyebrow raised.

Kallian sat back on Zevran's legs, her bound wrists in her lap, waiting. He could tell she wanted to say something, but she had pulled her lips between her teeth to prevent herself from so doing.

He took her hands in his, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. "Molto bene, mia bella schiava. The second rule is that _when_ I tell you to do something, you will respond by saying 'Si, mio signore e padrone', and you will not speak otherwise unless I tell you to, understood?"

"Si, mio signore e padrone."

Zevran smiled. "Molto bene. Now lie on your back in the middle of the bed."

"Si, mio signore e padrone," she repeated as she lifted herself off his legs and stretched out on the bed.

Zevran suddenly had more rope than he had first shown to Kallian, and he was quick to secure her hands to the headboard. The rope was slack enough to allow her to move her arms, but she only had a foot or so of movement in any direction. Her pulse was racing, desire was building, but she was nervous, too, as she wondered what she had gotten herself into.

Her lover turned to face her. "Do you trust me, Kallian?"

"Si, mio signore e padrone," she replied with a twitch of her lips.

"_Bene_." He slipped out of her field of vision for a moment and returned with a rather large feather.

Thoughts of when and where he could have possibly acquired such a thing left her mind abruptly as Zevran lightly dragged the tip of the feather along the underside of her left arm, over her armpit, around her breast and down her torso, stopping just shy of her groin. The tickling sensation made her shiver and moan, and she lifted her hips slightly to encourage him to continue. He chuckled and held her down, dragging the feather across the tops of her thighs and briefly swirling it over the top of her cleft before putting it down. Her hips shifted under his arm.

"Oh no, I will not be rushed. I will take my time, dear Warden." He reached behind him and revealed a strip of cloth.

"I am going to gag you and, I think, blindfold you as well."

Kallian shivered in response, chewing on her lip to silence herself. She could feel moisture between her legs, excitement building in her core. She wanted desperately for him to touch her again or to touch him, it didn't matter. Try as she might to stay silent, she whimpered and pulled at her restraints.

Zevran's eyes travelled from her face to her feet and back again and he leaned down to whisper into her ear. "You are so lovely when you are excited. Perhaps I will fuck you in front of a mirror one day, so you can see truly how lovely you are when you are aroused."

His words and the feel of his breath along her ear made her moan and tip her head back and Zevran took that opportunity to gag her. He wrapped the thick fabric around her head and tied it fairly securely to one side so she would still be comfortable on her back. He turned toward her feet and grasped an ankle, wrapping a sock around it.

Kallian spoke through the gag, asking a muffled "What are you…" before she could stop herself.

Zevran reacted quickly, rolling her onto her side to give her bottom a few sharp smacks. He didn't hit hard enough to hurt her, just enough to make her flesh sting. Kallian gasped and jerked away from Zevran, surprised to feel familiar stirrings in her groin and abdomen. A blush of shame crept up her neck and face. She would never have imagined that being spanked could arouse her. A strong arm held her in place as he spanked her a few more times for trying to escape. Part of her wanted to laugh, while part of her was on the verge of crying. The stinging slaps warmed her bottom and groin, rousing her passions even more, but she felt humiliated. Zevran pulled her on to her back again and looked down at her.

"Rule number three. When I punish you, you must apologize. Say 'Mi scuso per la mia trasgressione, mio signore e padrone.'" Amusement was evident on his face as he repeated slowly what he had asked her to say and then slid the gag down so she could speak clearly.

Her brow wrinkled with concentration as she struggled to repeat the phrase to him and when she was done he rewarded her with a smile and a passionate kiss that left her wanting more. Sliding the gag back into place, he picked up her ankle and proceeded to tie rope around it, using the sock to protect her skin from chafing.

Hopping off the bed, he took the other end of the rope and pulled on it until her leg was stretched out toward the corner of the bed, then tied it to the footboard. He repeated this process with her other leg, leaving her completely exposed. Kallian's heart was pounding in her chest and her exposed groin was tingling with anticipation. Zevran got back onto the bed and sat between her legs, eyes fixed on hers. He reached out and placed a hand on her mons, pressing it there and then sliding it down over the folds of her flesh. She felt him slowly pushing his fingers into her and sighed as he moved them within her. A moment later she was groaning in protest as he withdrew his hand and sucked her juices off his fingers, eyes still locked on her face.

"Mmm, so lovely and delicious."

Bending forward, he pulled the gag down and kissed her. There was something rather erotic about tasting herself on his lips and she was panting as he pulled away from her.

"What are you thinking, Warden?"

"I-I want you so much I feel as though I might…_explode_, and I…I am a bit scared," she admitted, looking away from him.

"That can be arousing, yes?" He pinched her nipples, hard.

"Si, mio signore e padrone," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Zevran released her nipples and flicked them, causing them to sting and she bit her lip to stop from shouting out. He sucked on each nipple in turn, his hands caressing her ears. Pain and pleasure mixed with sexual frustration was an interesting blend; the exposure and helplessness her position imposed upon her made her undulate under Zevran in an effort to encourage more contact. Her entire body was tingling with desire and just as she thought he might finally make love to her, Zevran was pulling away again.

He reappeared with another strip of cloth in hand. "You can breathe properly through the gag?"

"Si, mio signore e padrone," she replied promptly.

He held up the cloth and laid it over her eyes, wrapping the ends around the back of her head to tie them together by her ear. "Can you see anything?" he whispered.

"No, mio signore e padrone," came her shaky reply.

The desire to be touched was becoming overwhelming. The feel of Zevran at her side, breathing across her ear, made her groin ache and her legs pulled against the restraints as she tried to bring her thighs together. It was a pointless exercise. With a whimper, Kallian took a deep breath and tried to relax.

"Molto bene, mia bella schiava. You will find release soon enough." He slid the gag back over her mouth.

She started as his fingers traced her tattoo, lips brushing along her jaw line. Zevran kissed the hollow at the base of her throat, slid a finger under her knee to tickle the sensitive flesh there, and kissed her belly. Each touch caught her by surprise and heightened her arousal. Weight shifted on the bed, wooden slats creaked, and then the room was silent. Kallian slowed her breathing and listened. Nothing. _Zevran is a master of stealth,_ she thought to herself. _I'll hear him when he wants me to._

She shrieked as Zevran's mouth closed around the toes of her right foot. He sucked them, his tongue darting in between and around her toes. After the initial shock wore off, she found she…_liked_ it and her body was reacting almost as it would if he were playing with the bud of nerves between her legs. She arched her back as the pleasure built and felt intense disappointment when he pulled away from her yet again. Then he was at her left foot, sucking and teasing and pulling away. More silence, a soft sound to her right, a light breeze on her belly. Quite suddenly, the feather was tickling the insides of her thighs and she cried out again, precariously close to orgasm. She wanted to beg him to touch her, to take her, fill her, make her come, but she didn't dare risk another spanking; it would be too much.

Weight shifted on the bed and she was startled once again by an unexpected touch. Zevran kissed her thighs, nipped at her skin with his teeth, and marked her with a series of red bruises. He started and stopped for several minutes to keep her on the edge of, but not quite reaching, that delicious moment of crises she wanted so badly. When he finally did put his mouth to her wet folds and ran his tongue around her clit, Kallian screamed and shuddered within seconds as an orgasm ripped through her. Zevran watched with delight as she came, fingers sliding into her to feel her muscles contracting around him as her back arched and her appendages shook. As the first wave subsided, Zevran pushed himself up and into her, finding a gentle rhythm that brought her to a peak again. As the second wave of pleasure coursed through her, she sobbed, arms and legs pulling at the ropes.

Zevran rode her until the orgasm subsided and then he was off her, off the bed and silent. The intensity of her orgasm and Zevran's sudden withdrawal from her body and their bed kept her crying for several minutes as she tried to regain control of her body and her emotions. As she relaxed, she realized just how quiet it was. She felt cooler air around her and found herself fearful that Zevran had left the room. _No, I would have heard the door, the wood creaks_. Another minute passed and she was on the verge of calling out to him when she felt him climb back onto the bed. His hand slid under her bottom, lifting her up, and he placed something there, elevating her off the bed slightly. It felt coarse…_A drying towel?_

She could hear Zevran uncorking a bottle. Fear and curiosity mingled with her still burning sexual arousal and the telltale tingling at her core began all over again. Suddenly, fingers slick with a lotion of some sort slid into her and she could feel Zevran's fingertips massaging upwards. At first she wasn't quite sure what he was trying to accomplish and then quite suddenly as his fingers inched forward, she felt something different. He seemed to have found what he was seeking, and began to press on the area. She fought her desire to ask him what he was doing and took a deep breath to relax. Almost immediately, Kallian felt as though she had to pee and gasped. Not wanting to break any rules, she made a noise of protest. Zevran simply laughed lightly in response, increasing the pressure he was applying to her vaginal wall.

Zevran shifted, placing his thumb on her clit while his fingers continued to press upwards inside her and she was quite suddenly completely overtaken by an orgasm so powerful she thought she would faint. It rolled over her in waves, every inch of her body tingling and feeling more…_fantastic_ than she had ever thought possible and she screamed through the gag. Fluid rushed out of her and just when she thought it was over it started up again and again, and then Zevran was on her and sliding into her, thrusting forward and up in an effort to keep bumping the area he had been massaging. He reached his own climax within minutes, a deep shuddering orgasm that curled his toes and made him collapse onto Kallian. She continued to writhe and buck underneath him as her own orgasm ran its course. He pulled out of her and snuggled up beside her until her body relaxed and her breathing began to return to a more normal rhythm.

Murmuring 'molto bene' to her, he removed her gag and blindfold, untied her ankles and wrists and removed the towels from underneath her, covering her with their blankets. Returning to her side, he slipped under the covers with her and placed a dry towel between her legs. He pressed his warm body next to hers to keep her warm.

"You may speak if you wish, mia cara. The game is over for tonight."

"Wh-wh-what was _that_?" was all she could manage. Most of her body felt completely numb and her thoughts were fuzzy.

"Something wonderful, yes?" He smoothed a hand over her hair and kissed her temple.

This more powerful type of orgasm was something few women he had been with could manage, and those who did were often afraid and confused afterward, thinking they had urinated during the act. He was amazed and quite pleased that Kallian did not suffer from such inhibitions.

"Yes. _Maker, yes!_ I…I hope we don't get attacked during the night. I don't think I could lift a dagger, never mind get out of bed. I am…completely exhausted." She tried to move, but found she simply couldn't. "Kiss me, Zev. I think I might fall asleep any second now."

He pushed himself up and leaned over her, kissing her lips first lightly and then more passionately, his tongue swirling around hers. She sighed and moaned beneath him.

"Mmm. I should like to do that all over again, but…too…sleepy." With that she was out.

Zevran smiled and kissed her forehead. "Buonanotte, mia amata."

Settling beside his lover, he drifted off into a contented sleep.

xXx

I won't pretend to know Italian; I am using a Google translation app on Chrome, and run each phrase both ways to be sure I got what I wanted and wanted what I got, so here's hoping this is right!

Molto bene, mia bella schiava – Very good, my pretty slave.

Si, mio signore e padrone – Yes, my lord and master.

Mi scuso per la mia trasgressione, mio signore e padrone – I apologize for my transgression, my lord and master.

Aaaand…if you're wondering, our expert lover brings Kallian to a G-Spot orgasm at the end there. After copious amounts of on-line research (alas, no personal experience from which to draw upon), I _think_ I have written a somewhat accurate account of what might happen in such a case, although I suspect it would not come on as quickly as I have suggested.

I thought writing this would be easier, but it turns out good porn is hard work (pardon the pun). Any constructive criticism you can offer would be greatly appreciated. Does this flow, seem realistic, et cetera…


	2. Chapter 2

_**An Alternate Perspective from Chapter 2: Seduction**_

Alistair stirred, momentarily disoriented. He remembered he had wandered into the trees to meditate. He must have fallen asleep. Cursing himself for his lack of attention, he made to get up when he heard a noise nearby.

Kallian's voice drifted through the trees, heavy with…_lust_. "What are you doing?"

Zevran's voice responded. "I intend to take you here and now, unless you object."

"Show me." The breathiness of her voice drew a reaction from Alistair's body, a lurch in his belly and a pull in his groin. He tried not to groan out loud.

Shortly thereafter, Kallian gasped audibly and there was no need to try to imagine what was happening, it was plainly clear. Alistair rubbed his hair and face with a calloused hand, wondering what to do. He wasn't wearing his armor, just his padded leggings, a tunic and leather boots. Given what both Kallian and Zevran had taught him over the months, he _might_ be able to move without drawing much attention to himself…His sword was on the ground nearby…

"Oh, Zevran! Yes, yes!"

Alistair had to get away from them; he couldn't stand the thought of that assassin touching her, taking her as his own. He felt guilty immediately, having no claim on Kallian, but he had hoped…He had hoped for something that would not come to pass, he had to accept that, but _this_…_this_ was far too much, far too soon. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the sounds of their passion, but it was impossible. No amount of Templar training could help; they were both rather…_vocal_. He decided he could try to use that to his advantage and waited until she was shouting out again. He shifted slowly onto his belly, as quietly as he could, the moss beneath him making this easier, and looked through the underbrush toward the river's edge.

There they were, naked, caught in a patch of mottled morning light. Zevran had lifted Kallian up to his waist and was bucking into her with a steady rhythm. Kallian's legs were wrapped around him, her ankles linked together and bouncing off his ass with his thrusts. Arms around his neck, she arched away from Zevran and tipped her head back, panting and making whimpering sounds. What they said about elves was true; they were…_beautiful_. Sunlight glittered on Kallian's auburn curls, her pale skin seemed to glow, and her delicate features were flushed with passion. Her perfect breasts bounced against Zevran's chest; his fingers dug into her buttocks, and she looked…_enthralled_. Zevran was a well-toned and muscled specimen of an elf, his darker skin tone giving him a much healthier look than the rest of their party members. His muscles rippled with every move he made and his hair shimmered as it shifted back and forth in the sun. Alistair found himself rather impressed with the man's strength. Kallian wasn't heavy by any means, but it had to be awkward to make love standing. They were perfect together, fitting together as though they were made to. Alistair loomed over his Warden sister by a head and shoulders at least, a huge hulking mass of bulk in comparison to her lithe body. Seeing them together like this made him realize how mismatched he was for her.

Alistair couldn't take his eyes off them and his face flushed with shame as he felt himself harden with desire. If he were another kind of man, he might have given in to the urges that had plagued him since his Joining, the burning need to seek…_that_ kind of gratification. Instead, he carried himself like a gentleman; he resisted temptation and trained, prayed and meditated. _This_, however, was most definitely not helping. Mixed emotions tore through him. A virginal Chantry-raised man such as he was, he was mildly horrified to see a couple having sex, never mind _who_ they were. His heart broke the more he realized that he had never had a chance with this woman. At the same time, he was aroused. He cursed himself for seeking solitude here of all places, but realized he couldn't have known they would come here to bathe.

It was too late for him to try to slip away unseen; they had shifted with their movement and one or the other of them would see him. At that moment, they both shouted out. Alistair's shame was overshadowed by fascination with their reaction to the moment of climax. Zevran went rigid, his buttocks and legs clenched tightly, his back arching as he thrust into Kallian one last time and held them together. Kallian's head was thrown back, her breasts shaking as she shuddered with pleasure. The look on her face was one of bliss, if he had to define it. The two of them were damp with sweat from their exertions and they practically glittered in the morning sun. They stayed that way for a moment before beginning to relax.

Zevran was laughing as they tried to steady themselves and walk on trembling legs. "Now we must bathe again, beauty, but this time I shall dry myself off lest you tempt me again!"

"Would that be such a terrible thing?" Kallian's voice drifted away as she slipped back into the river.

"No, it would not, but what will the others think?"

Alistair heard the sound of splashing water, and then the couple was back out of the water, drying off.

"I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable." Zevran's tone was light and teasing as he dressed.

"Here I thought I seduced you." Kallian shot back playfully.

They continued talking, but Alistair shut them out and soon enough they were walking back to camp. He was still aroused, his erection pressing into the ground beneath him. Shifting slightly, another flush of shame coming over him, he slid his hand into his leggings and gripped his manhood. Sliding his hand up and down his length, he closed his eyes, thoughts shifting back to the scene he has just witnessed. It wasn't long before the image of Kallian and Zevran, so beautiful, held together in the most intimate of embraces drove him over the edge as he slid his thumb along the tip of his penis. His own body went rigid, legs tensing and buttocks clenching as he spilled his seed into his hand.

Tears of shame and hurt in his eyes, he eventually made his way to the river to clean himself up before returning to camp. He would meditate and go through his training forms and try to accept Kallian's relationship with the assassin. She deserved some happiness; if she wasn't meant to be with him, he could give her that much.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you to Bioware for the characters and the few lines I've pinched for the scene. I started this, thought it would end one of three ways (Alistair crying, Alistair masturbating or Alistair doing both) and figured that would be sad and not sexy, or even OOC for the Alistair I've created. And then a certain pervy, elf-lovin' someone I know said I should write it anyway, so here it is. Less racy than the last chapter, and perhaps a bit sad, but done nonetheless.


	3. Chapter 3

_**An addition to Chapter 28: Duty: The Dark Ritual **_

Alistair followed Morrigan to her room, swaying slightly in his drunkenness, his stomach twisting. So far it had been a spectacularly rotten evening and now _this_…he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. In spite of having serious reservations about fathering a child and then abandoning it, he _would _do this. He had no reason to doubt Kallian; she would put her own life on the line for her country, a country that didn't value her or her kind as much as it should, and leave him behind as she'd said. If Riordan didn't make the killing blow, she would. She would do it as the senior Warden on the field and Alistair couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

He watched Morrigan as she opened the door to her room. In another life he would have been hunting her down and probably killing her…or being killed by her…and he was surprised at how much that thought disturbed him. He couldn't say he _liked_ her, not _really_, but he would call her a friend. He had known her almost as long as Kallian; she was their first companion. She was rude and abrasive, immature and inexperienced in many ways, and yet he had grown accustomed to her and come to respect her. Even if this ritual had been her goal all along, she had risked grave injury and fought bravely alongside him and Kallian from the beginning, defending them time and again. For that he was grateful. _Okay, focus on that. That's good._

Morrigan let him into her room and closed the door behind them, sliding the bolt home. She turned to face him, leaning back against the door. Alistair had moved to the fireplace and was making a show of warming his hands, a rather strange look on his face. She took the time to consider the man. As much as she gave him a hard time and belittled him, he was very handsome, kind and considerate. She had no use for such sentiments, but they served him well enough. Thoughts of what might have come to pass if their lives had taken a different turn drifted through her mind. He could very well have been one of the many Templars her mother lured into the wilds for sport. For a brief moment, she thought she might actually be feeling a sense of relief that this was not the case and would never be, for she had come to regard him with a certain...softness, as sickening a prospect as that was. Would she go so far as to call him friend? Perhaps. He had done her a great favor; he had gone with Kallian to kill Flemeth, asking no questions, passing no judgment. He had simply done it and if he had objected, Morrigan never heard of it.

With that thought in mind, she determined that if she were patient with him and could put aside her dislike for what he was in general, the evening might be pleasing for them both. He would die of embarrassment if he knew that she had seen him naked once, when he was badly injured and Wynne needed her help with his wounds, but she knew he was incredibly fit and more than well-equipped enough to satisfy her. She licked her lips and took a step forward.

"Come now, Alistair, this will not be as unpleasant as you seem to think it might be. Would you like some wine?"

He laughed softly. "As long as there's nothing else in it."

She huffed and moved to the bedside table, picking up a bottle and corkscrew. "Perhaps you would like to open it then?"

He decided that since she was trying to make an effort, he could too, and he went to her side. "Of course."

He took the bottle and got to opening it while she held out two goblets. Wine poured, she gave him his and took a drink from hers.

Taking a sip of wine, Alistair rocked back on his heels. "Sooo…"

"Do not be so nervous, Alistair. I will not bite…unless you want me to." She smirked. "I will not turn you into a toad, I will not mock you, I will not transform into a giant spider and eat you. I will, however, see to it that you enjoy yourself, if you will let me."

Her eyes caught his and he paused only a moment before nodding slowly. True to character, he then cracked a joke. "And I promise not to use any of my Templar skills on you," he intoned, wiggling his fingers at her.

She snorted at that, and he thought she might be trying to hide laughter the way her lips twitched. Without further comment, Morrigan reached behind her neck and unlaced her robes, baring her chest in an instant. Pulling at another set of laces at her waist, she let her scant robes fall to the floor, slipped her small clothes off and stood before Alistair naked.

He cleared his throat nervously, trying not to stare at her. "Ah…I've never…with…"

"Been with a woman?" Morrigan asked wryly, smiling as he blushed. "Come now, Alistair. Voices do carry around camp, we all gossip about each other, and I am certain you are not as thick as I would have others believe." She paused and added "_Licking a lamppost_ is not the metaphor one would use to describe having relations with a _woman_."

She laughed when his expression turned from confusion to understanding and he blushed. Was there no end to the shades of red this man's face could produce? "You are catching on much more quickly these days, Alistair. Good for you."

He jumped slightly as she slipped her hands under his tunic, running them up his chest. Dragging her nails over his muscles, she whispered "You are overdressed. Take this off."

As he complied, she unlaced his leggings, drawing a gasp from him. Tutting at him softly, she pushed them and his small clothes off his hips and down his legs, following them until she was kneeling in front of Alistair. She helped him step out of his clothes and tossed them aside. Running her hands back up his legs, she stopped at his hips and with no warning, cupped his balls in one hand and took his now partially-erect member in her mouth.

"Maker's _breath_!" he exclaimed, his nerves shaken. As the initial shock wore off, he realized what she was doing to him felt…_fantastic_.

Morrigan chuckled, sending a vibrating sensation along his shaft and he sucked in his breath, instinctively taking her head in his hands. She took him deep into her throat and groaned, the rumble making Alistair slightly weak in the knees. Pulling back, she dragged her tongue along the underside of his shaft, then suckled the tip and swirled her tongue around it. He mumbled inarticulately, tipping his head back as she continued.

Alistair had pleasured himself on occasion, but it certainly did not compare to this. _This_ was incredible. It didn't hurt that he didn't like her much, or that he was trained as a Templar and she was an apostate, because right now he was finding all of that _highly_ arousing. A twinge of shame swept through him at the thought that his first time would be with a woman he did not love, but, and perhaps this was the wine speaking, even _that_ seemed arousing. Maker knew he had been plagued with desires since his Joining, but his Templar training and discipline as a warrior and champion had helped him resist temptation. Until now. Now, he seemed to be throwing himself into it. _Maker, what is she _doing_?_

He looked down to see Morrigan looking back up at him as she continued to suck and fondle him. A tension was building in his balls and part of him realized he wanted her. Maybe it was the wine, maybe she had enthralled him somehow, he didn't particularly care. She was good looking woman, even if she was a complete bitch most of the time, and right now she looked _really_ good. He blushed and smiled at her, completely uncertain what to do with her. _Andraste's mercy, I think I might…_

Morrigan pulled away from him then, not letting him reach his peak, and smiled back at him. Standing, she ran her fingers up his body and into his short-cropped hair, eyes searching his. "I must recite an incantation while we…perform the act…and you will feel a magic far different than that which I normally wield. I trust you will not overreact and smite me?"

He nodded slowly and surprised her with a tentative kiss, his full lips grazing hers lightly. Leaning back to gauge her reaction and finding her looking at him curiously, he claimed her mouth with more force. She responded in kind, fitting her body against his. Alistair moaned and pulled her closer still, crushing her breasts to his chest as their tongues explored each other's mouths. Morrigan sighed, breathing in the smell of musk and leather and soap. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed a man's company and she found herself wanting this more than she would have liked. She pulled back, fingertips brushing his lips.

"Mm, most enjoyable, but if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it," she breathed.

Alistair raised an eyebrow, the more recognizable twinkle of mirth in his eyes mixing with lingering uncertainty. "I…um…tell me what you'd like me to do," he whispered.

That startled her. "You wish to give as well as take? A true gentleman. That bodes well for your marriage, Alistair. And always with the blushing." She raised a hand to his cheek, a softer expression filling her eyes. "You may like to know that a woman's neck is sensitive, here."

He looked to where she was pointing, beneath the knot of hair she had pinned at the back of her head. He realized her neck was long and graceful, now that he looked at it.

"Here?" He reached out and stroked the nape of her neck.

Morrigan felt a shiver of excitement shoot down her back at his light touch. "Yes."

Alistair moved to stand behind her and kissed her there. Morrigan felt another jolt of excitement and sighed deeply before she could stop herself. It was his turn to laugh at her as he pulled the stays out of her hair. It fell down past her shoulders, framing her face and completely changing her appearance. Alistair paused and turned her slightly to consider the new visage before him. She bristled under his scrutiny.

"Do not be a fool and ruin it, _Templar_," she warned.

"I could say the same to you, _aaa-postate_," he replied quickly, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I was thinking you are quite beautiful, but if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it."

"Pfft." She looked unsure of herself as she brought his hand to her breast. "A woman also likes to be touched here, with lips as well as hands."

Alistair placed his hands on her breasts and squeezed them gently. He pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers, and then on an impulse, took a nipple in his mouth and sucked on it. Morrigan gasped, and he took that as encouragement, lavishing attention on both breasts for a time. Something about her tasted…_good_, set his senses on fire. _Lyrium and magic._ The wine was certainly helping to calm his nerves and he dared to pick her up and lay her down on the bed.

Morrigan shifted over to make room for him and was taken by surprise, again she realized, when he pulled her close and kissed her. She found herself running a hand up his back to his broad shoulders, the other around his waist to rest at the base of his spine. His hand wandered to her breast and then down her side, his touch light and teasing. Stopping at her hip, he looked down the length of her body to the small, dark patch of hair at the junction of her thighs. He had heard Zevran and Kallian often enough, seen silhouettes in their tent when the fire had been in the right position, even watched them once in the woods. Recalling that sent a warmness through his belly and he took a breath to bring himself back to the present. He knew how it was all supposed to fit together but…Morrigan's finger at his chin turned his head back to face her.

"A man is generally quicker to his crisis than a woman, although with time one can learn a great deal of restraint. No doubt the assassin has tried to set your cheeks afire with tales of ribaldry?"

Alistair coughed and she laughed.

"He does have a point, however cocky and arrogant he may be. If you see to a woman's pleasure, yours will be that much greater and she will be flattered and more likely to respond in kind." Morrigan's hand travelled down to touch his briefly before she lifted it slightly and traced a finger over his knuckles and along her thigh to her groin. "Would you like to look? Touch?" Her tone was soft and seductive, alluring.

He did and he thought he said as much, but his voice sounded foreign to him, rough. She shifted and slid her hand between her legs, and he watched as she moved her fingers between the folds of flesh there. One finger disappeared into them, then another, her scent drawing him down. She brought her hand to his mouth and he licked her fingers clean. She tasted like nothing he could have imagined; sweet and tangy, with a hint of lyrium and a trace of wildflower. Something akin to the way the air felt just before a lightning storm lingered there. She wasn't cold, the way her magic felt to him, but she _tasted_ cold. Before he had even fully formed the thought in his mind, he was moving his hand between her legs.

Morrigan moaned and spread her legs apart, and his baser instincts took over. He followed her example, running his hand over her sex. She was wet and slick and he slid a finger into her, then another and another. He watched her as he moved his fingers in and out of her tight passage, and was surprised to see that everything about her had softened. Hair loose about her head and shoulders, eyes closed, mouth open slightly, breath shaky with excitement, back arching with pleasure…she was just a woman, nothing to be afraid of at all, and it was arousing to know that he was making her writhe around like that. Turning his attention entirely to the cleft between her legs, growing confidence spurring him on, he kissed her there. Her scent was stronger here and it was somewhat intoxicating. He probed her with his tongue and lapped at her folds, his fingers continuing to tease her. He found the hooded nub of flesh hidden there and enjoyed the reaction he got when he sucked on it.

"Yes…Ah-ah-alistair, yes," she moaned softly, hands pulling at his head.

He grazed her bud with his teeth, swirled his tongue around it and pinched it, still working his fingers in and out of her. He could feel her channel tightening around his hand, saw her legs stiffen, and knew she was reaching her moment of crisis. He slid his thumb back and forth over her clit and watched as she came. She gripped the sheets, arched her back and shuddered, crying out as her head sank deeper into the bedding.

When she collapsed onto the bed again, Alistair pulled himself away from her loins and climbed back up her body to kiss her. He was less tentative now, rough in his eagerness, and Morrigan felt a longing and desire she hadn't known before. She wanted him, now. Wanted his bulky, muscular body to smother hers, wanted him to fill her.

"Alistair," she whispered into his mouth, her voice hoarse. "It is time."

He put an arm down on either side of her to brace himself and held his body over hers, pausing for a brief moment to look at her. Firelight danced in her dark eyes and her lips were moving as she muttered something he couldn't understand. He felt her hand around his shaft, guiding him to her body, and then he was sliding into her warm, velvet folds. He wasn't sure if he had ever felt anything quite so marvelous as this…no, he knew he _hadn't_, and he added this to his list of reasons to be thankful he wasn't a Templar. Sex was incredible and he had only just begun.

Morrigan gasped as he pushed into her. He was large and though she was ready for him, it took her a moment to adjust to his girth. She continued to mutter as Alistair thrust into her and the air around them crackled with electricity. An unfamiliar warmth flowed through his veins and he felt a tingling sensation all over his body. Morrigan had wrapped her legs around him and her hips met each thrust of his, fingernails raking down his back as she sunk her teeth into his shoulder. It hurt, and he felt something warm trickle over his collar bone, but the pain only spurred him on and soon he was pounding into her mercilessly. As her passage constricted around him, the pressure in his groin built and finally rushed forth. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before. His legs tensed and his toes curled as he arched his back, and he felt a series of spasms ripple through his groin as his seed spilled into Morrigan.

As the spasms faded, he collapsed onto her, panting heavily. She muttered the last of her incantation and brought her arms up around Alistair's shoulders. They lay together that way for several minutes before he eased himself out of her and shifted to lie by her side, his face nestled in her dark hair, an arm draped over her body.

"Maker's breath, woman. I think I see what all the fuss is about."

Morrigan chuckled. "Mmm. It is not an entirely unpleasant way to pass the time."

"Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel good," he laughed.

The feel of his warm breath in her hair and along her shoulder sent a shiver down her spine. Unwelcome thoughts of what he would face in the days ahead came to mind and she tried to push them away. Something pressed against her leg.

"Alistair, what…"

"What do you expect? I'm young, a bit on the drunk side, I've got the Grey Warden stamina and I'm in bed with a beautiful and completely naked woman. I am a _man_, after all."

"Pfft. You are no better than that flea bitten mongrel of Kallian's, an animal. The ritual is done, there is no need to repeat the act."

The subtle hint of a smile on her lips suggested she might think otherwise and Alistair nuzzled closer to her.

"Are you sure? What if it didn't work?" He might give consideration later to the question of why on Thedas he wanted to have sex with her again, never mind press the matter with her…maybe…but right now his body was driving him more than his brain.

Morrigan turned to him, a serious expression on her face. "Indeed. T'would be most unfortunate for us to discover that the ritual did not work."

She climbed on top of him this time and they went through the dance again, feigning reluctance. As drunk as he was on wine and sex, it didn't escape his notice that Morrigan failed to recite the incantation, resorting instead to inarticulate wails and moans.

xXx

Hours later, with another log burning on the hearth, Morrigan pulled the sheets up around their chests. "Alistair?"

"Mmm?"

"If you will let me, I can give you a full night's sleep, with no nightmares to haunt you."

He opened his eyes and regarded her. "I won't wake up chained to a wall in a dungeon or something, will I?"

She arched a brow at him, pursing her lips.

It was no secret that he and Kallian had terrible dreams and rarely slept well. He was touched that he would offer to do this for him, although he suspected the sex had worn him out. Kallian seemed to be sleeping better lately.

He nodded. "Yes, please. I think I'll have enough nightmares in the days to come."

She raised her hand to touch his head and he caught it in his, pressing his lips to her palm. She stared at him, shocked he would do such a thing and surprised by her reaction to it. A jolt of desire spiked through her and she didn't feel the need to pull away from him.

"Thank you, Morrigan."

His eyes said much more and she felt uncomfortable, trapped in his gaze, but before she could protest, he let go of her with a nod. She placed her hand on his head and murmured something. Her hand glowed pale blue for a sliver of time and he was asleep. She ran her hand over his hair and down his cheek. She had been accused of being cold bitch, who cared nothing of love and affection, and she had disagreed with every act of compassion Kallian had committed, so it came as quite a surprise to her that she would have the slightest care for this fool. She had no other way to explain the confusing emotions within her.

She took her wine and climbed off the bed to stand by the fire, draining the goblet quickly. Moving to her pack, she pulled out a pouch that held the pieces of jewelry Kallian had given her. Inside was a ring made of rosewood. She took it out and tucked the pouch away again. Stepping over to Alistair's things, she found his coin purse. Muttering softly to herself, she ran a finger over the ring, slipped it into his coin purse and laced it up again. Blowing out the candles around the room, she returned to her bed and pulled the curtains shut. Slipping under the sheets, she pulled close to Alistair and drifted off to sleep.

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**A/N:** I did not expect this to turn out this way, to be honest, but there is the hint of a suggestion in chapter 29 of _A Second Chance_ that Morrigan has a soft spot for Alistair and this wound up being quite the opposite of the angry Templar/apostate sex I thought it would be.

Thank you so much to those of you who take the time to comment/review, and add me to your lists. I do love a review! Thanks also to Bioware. Cheers!


	4. Chapter 4

**_An Interlude_**

_This chapter takes place between chapters 31 and 32 of A Second Chance, while Kallian is recovering from her battle with the archdemon. Members of Eamon's household were rescued from his safe room the day after the fall of the darkspawn hoard and Alistair pays Anora a visit to see how she is doing. Bioware owns all, I just touched their junk, to paraphrase Oghren. Anora may be a bit OOC here, depending on what notions you've got about her...As always, I love hearing from readers, so please feel free to comment. If you are not familiar with this series, check out 'A Second Chance' and 'A Second Chance: Awakenings'. Cheers!_

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Alistair raised a hand to knock on Anora's door, yet another twinge of guilt tugging at him. Before it could take hold, Anora's maid Erlina opened the door. She looked exhausted and upon seeing him she froze, uncertain what to do. Settling on a quick curtsy, she stepped back to let him into the sitting room of Anora's suite.

"Good evening, Erlina."

"Good evening, your…"

"Alistair will do for now if you don't mind. Everything's so…" his voice trailed off as he waved his hands in the air. "We're just lucky to be alive, and I am relieved you and the others were able to hold out in Eamon's safe room."

"Thank you...Alistair. My lady will be a moment." He was a far cry from his brother and father, Erlina thought to herself, wondering how he would settle into life as the king of Ferelden.

There was an awkward silence between the two of them and after a short spell, Alistair broke it.

"Ser Aiden tells me Anora was the one to lead you to the safe room." He felt the same swelling of pride now as he did when he first heard the news.

"Yes, my lady armed herself, barricaded the gates and took us to the basement. She did not train with armor and weapons much until you encouraged her, and I think that helped. She was very brave."

Alistair wanted to tell Erlina he was proud of Anora, but he did not get the chance. The door to Anora's bed chamber opened and she stood in the doorway, freshly bathed and dressed in a cream colored silk sleeping gown and robe, long hair slightly damp and hanging loose about her shoulders, her eyes resting on Alistair. He was clean and groomed, wearing dark brown leather breeches and a tan linen tunic, every bit as handsome as she remembered. Her pulse quickened. Alistair sucked in his breath at the sight of her and he blushed immediately. Erlina looked back and forth between the two, realizing her presence had been momentarily forgotten. She suppressed a smile and deliberately yawned.

"Oh, I am sorry for being so rude, my lady."

Anora came to her senses and smiled. "Nonsense, Erlina. We have all had a difficult and trying time. Please go get a good night's sleep. I should be fine for the rest of the evening on my own."

Erlina curtsied. "Thank you, my lady. Ser Alistair." She turned and slipped out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind her and there was silence again for a brief moment while Alistair and Anora looked at each other. She inclined her head toward a heavy wooden cabinet.

"I was about to pour myself some wine. May I offer you some?"

"Yes, please."

Alistair watched Anora move across the room to the cabinet, take out two goblets, open the decanter and pour them some wine. She moved with an effortless grace, the silk of her robes shifting along her curves, but her hands shook slightly. She was nervous, he realized, and he couldn't help smiling about that. _Thank the Maker I'm not the only one._ She handed him a goblet and waved to two chairs by the fire. They sat and took a sip of wine, both staring into the flames.

Anora spoke first. "We have heard rumours about the battle. The Warden, Kallian, is she…will she be all right?"

Alistair shrugged, feeling the stinging prickle of tears behind his eyes. It had only been a day since they brought her down from the roof of Fort Drakon, and she was in rough shape. The mages were doing all they could, but Petra had said it would take time before they'd know if she would wake up.

"We don't know for certain, yet. She is badly injured, but several mages are working to heal her. We lost Wynne and so many others, but it's over."

Anora's breath hitched and she reached out to him. Alistair took her hand without thinking, as though it were the most natural thing to do.

"I shall pray for her, Alistair. How…how is Zevran handling it?"

He was surprised she would ask after Zevran, considering the tension that had existed between them after the Fort Drakon incident. "He won't leave her side. He is absolutely devoted to Kallilan and I worry that if anything happens to her…" his voice trailed off and he felt her squeeze his fingers. He squeezed hers back, comforted by her closeness.

"If…if it comes to that and he desires it, we shall find him a position here, Alistair, but have faith." He sighed and nodded, taking another sip of his wine.

After a pause, Anora spoke softly. "It is good to see you, Alistair. I was afraid…we felt the explosion, and I was so worried about you…"

Tears rolled down her cheeks and Alistair forgot all sense of propriety until he was kneeling before her about to pull her into his arms and he paused, uncertain. She turned her blue eyes to his face, resting a delicate hand on his chest, and that settled it. He embraced her and held her tightly, feeling her arms slide under his and around his back.

"I was worried about you, too," he said. "When we arrived at Redcliffe to discover the hoard was headed here, I was terrified. I'm sorry we didn't look for you and the others after the battle. I should have come for you myself, I should have…"

She was shaking her head, pulling away from him. "Alistair, it doesn't matter, we will all be fine and I understand."

Alistair's eyes found hers and before he could stop himself, he was slipping his hands into her hair and kissing her. She sucked in her breath and he pulled back, afraid he'd overstepped his bounds.

"I'm sorry, Anora. I shouldn't have…"

Anora's finger on his lips silenced him. "Alistair, I…" she blushed. "I missed you." Her eyes searched his as she held his chin with her thumb and forefinger, pulling him forward.

Alistair leaned in and kissed her, grateful that she had more or less invited him to do so; he didn't want to seem too forward. Anora responded, one hand caressing the base of his neck, while the other clutched the fabric of his tunic at his chest. She smelled of wild flowers, tasted like cinnamon, and was pressing against him in a way that made it clear she had missed him quite a bit. Alistair realized he had missed her, too, a great deal more than he had expected. He began kissing Anora more passionately, sucking her bottom lip, swirling his tongue around hers, and he felt almost giddy when she responded in kind, pulling him back up onto his feet and standing on her toes to close the gap between them. He slid his hands into her hair once again, enjoying the feel of it against his skin, and she sighed softly, pressing against him.

"Anora," he gasped at last, pulling back slightly. He wasn't sure if he should follow his instincts or leave for the evening. "I…ah…what…"

She took his hand and tugged on his arm lightly. "Alistair, I…would you stay with me tonight?" Her final words rushed out of her and she lowered her eyes from his face as her cheeks turned pink.

Alistair cupped her chin in his hand and tipped her head up so he could kiss her again. "Are you sure?" he whispered against her lips. This wasn't quite what he had expected, but now he realized it was what he wanted.

"Yes," she replied, trembling. "I am sure."

He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her forehead as he moved into her bed chamber. Placing her on her bed, he knelt before her, taking her hands in his. She was shaking and he smiled. This woman almost always appeared to be in complete control of herself, cool and calm, but now she was nervous and blushing and looked to be feeling every bit as awkward as he had felt with Morrigan.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Anora smiled. "I must admit I am…nervous. I have only been with one man." She laughed a little then, a lovely sound that pulled Alistair closer to her.

"Me, too. _Nervous_, I mean. I was raised in the Chantry, after all." He wanted to be honest with Anora, to a point.

She looked away from him. "I am older than you, almost too old…"

"Anora, you're hardly an old woman. You're beautiful," Alistair interjected.

"Oh...I, ah…Why, thank you, Alistair, that's very sweet. It's just that I worry I might not be able to get you an heir."

"Why are we talking about that _now_?" he asked, leaning in to kiss her neck while he untied the belt of her robe.

She sighed, arching against him, and promptly forgot what she had been talking about. In the next moment she nearly forgot her name. Alistair's mouth had found a nipple through the fabric of her sleeping gown and was sucking on it. He moved on to the other, stopping when her hands worked to free him of his tunic. Once she'd bared his chest she couldn't help but run her hands over his broad and muscular shoulders and chest, and down over his abdomen. He was quite handsome and she was beginning to ache with longing. He was sliding his hand down her leg and under the hem of her gown, pushing it up, and she stood briefly so he could remove it and let him lay her down on the bed. She felt self conscious, but was reassured by the way he groaned as he brushed a calloused hand across her belly and up to cup a breast.

"You are beautiful, Anora," he whispered again. Her skin was pale and perfect, her breasts small and firm. He wondered briefly how old age would change their bodies, but he was distracted by the feel of Anora's hands at his waist. She was having difficulty undoing his laces.

He chuckled, shifted his weight, and pulled the laces apart so he could remove his breeches and small clothes. Alistair looked up again to see that Anora had sat up and was trying not to stare at his hardening member in the flickering firelight. She blushed and looked away, but he caught her chin and pulled her down onto him. Their mouths met and they kissed, tongues exploring, teeth nipping at each other's lips. Anora could feel Alistair's manhood pressing against her, hard and insistent, as one hand slipped down her back to cup her bottom. Sensing he was ready, she pulled away from him and stretched out on her back beside him, eyes closed, waiting.

"What are you doing, Anora?" he asked, propping himself up on one arm. He brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"Aren't you ready?" She spoke in a bare whisper, eyes still closed, looking for all the world like a frightened virgin.

"Ready…?" Alistair thought back to the night he'd spent with Morrigan and the lessons she'd taught him, Zevran yammering on about how to please women, and finally to Cailan.

Cailan, with his long blond hair, so handsome in his golden armor, women swooning at the sight of him, men as well for that matter. For all that, was he not a good lover to his wife, his only concern getting an heir upon her? If the rumors were true, his relations with Anora served that purpose and he found his pleasures elsewhere.

"Look at me, Anora, please." He caressed her cheek. She opened her eyes slowly. "I want us _both _to enjoy each other's company, not to use you for my own pleasure."

Her eyes widened with surprise as Alistair bent down and kissed the tip of her nose, her lips and throat. He trailed kisses along her collar bone and down to her breast, pausing to suck her nipple until it was stiff and red. Anora's pulse was racing, her breath coming quicker as Alistair's mouth worked its way further down her torso.

His kisses were creeping closer to her groin until he was finally gently pushing Anora's thighs apart and kissing the small patch of blond curls there. Eyes flying wide open, she gasped and pushed herself up onto her elbows. _Surely he doesn't intend to…oh!_ Looking up at her, Alistair dragged his tongue along Anora's lips and kissed the folds of her flesh. Her expression was an almost comical mixture of horror and fascination. With a smile, he spread her apart with his fingers and, using his tongue, found the sensitive button of flesh hidden there.

Anora squirmed with embarrassment and started to protest when a most delightful feeling began to spread through her body. Alistair gently pushed a finger into her and moved it within her while he continued to suck and tease the small ball of flesh there, and she began to feel too weak to hold herself up. Anora collapsed onto the bed as Alistair slid a second finger into her and continued his ministrations. An unfamiliar sensation spread through her and her body convulsed as an orgasm took hold of her. She cried out, arched her back and clutched at the bed sheets, wanting to get away from Alistair and yet pull him closer at the same time.

"Please," she panted, reaching out to touch him. "Please, Alistair."

He pushed himself up and hovered over her. "Anora, look at me."

She found herself staring into Alistair's amber eyes. They sparkled with desire and humor, and she felt safe. He shifted his weight and slowly pushed into her, filling her, and she thought she might cry. It hurt a little at first – not as it had when Cailan had claimed her virginity, but it had been a while and Alistair was well-endowed – and then it became…_wonderful_. She had cared a great deal for Cailan, perhaps even loved him. He had loved her in his own way, of that she was certain, but nights with him had never been anything like this. He would come to her chamber, make brief attempts to woo her, get himself ready and mount her, thrusting into her until he spilled his seed. He usually fell asleep shortly thereafter or returned to his own chamber. Cailan had never touched her…_that _way. He had never made love to her like this, slowly and deliberately, telling her she was beautiful, and she couldn't recall a time when he had looked at her the way Alistair was looking at her now. She felt a strange mix of guilt, pleasure and happiness, and under it all that wonderful wave of sensation was building up again until it consumed her at last.

"A-Alistair, OH!" she gasped as she gripped his hips, bucking hers up to meet them.

His lips crushed against hers, his arms pulled her tight to his body, and he shuddered as he reached his own climax. "A-Anora, oh Maker," he panted.

He kissed her again as he withdrew from her and pulled the sheets up. Tucking the sheets around them, he settled in beside her, an arm draped across her, fingers stroking her hip. "Would you…I mean, should I leave?"

Anora turned so she could look at him, her eyes moist. "No. Please stay with me, Alistair." She probably should send him away, probably shouldn't have asked him to share her bed in the first place, but they had been on the verge of annihilation and against the odds they had been victorious. She was betrothed to marry this man and she cared for him, where was the harm?

"Then I will stay. I should warn you, however, that you are a beautiful woman and I am, well…I am a man who truly appreciates your charms."

She was about to ask him what exactly he meant by that when she felt his manhood hardening against her again. In another life, she might have been shocked. Now, however, she laughed. She felt truly desirable for the first time in months, years if she were to be honest with herself, and it was a wonderful feeling.

"I think I can forgive you that, Alistair."

They made love again that night before falling asleep in each other's arms and in the morning while she was still half asleep, Alistair had caressed and teased her, stirring desire within her and she had welcomed his affections. Alistair introduced her to positions she had only ever seen in a book her father had confiscated from a soldier once, bending her over her vanity and taking her from behind, sitting her on top of him as he stretched out on the bed, from behind while they lay side by side. She had not wanted him to leave, but they both had other duties to attend to and instead agreed to have supper together.

When Erlina arrived to attend to her mistress, she found the queen awake and dressed, sitting at her vanity brushing her hair and humming to herself. There was a distinct scent lingering in the air and Anora looked far happier than she had in quite some time. Loghain never would have allowed such a thing to happen, Erlina knew, but things had changed a great deal in a short time and they were no longer obliged to live by his rule. If Anora could be happy in this new marriage, if Alistair was the man he seemed to be, Erlina would do what she could to give them the time and space they needed.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Anders' Homecoming**_

_**A/N:**__ If you are following my series "A Second Chance: Awakenings" I will warn you that there are minor spoilers contained within this outtake. However, nothing critical is given away; the absence I elude to herein is an accepted piece of the original game universe._

_This chapter is not so much an outtake as it is a 'what if' notion that I couldn't shake. I have never planned on following up on Anders' possession by Justice, but I couldn't help wondering what would happen if things ended differently between my Warden Commander and her Senior Mage. What follows is my attempt to get that out of my head so I can get back to my main story. _

_My humble thanks goes out to everyone who's reading, especially to Zevgirl who previewed this for me. I greatly appreciate the comments and reviews on past chapters, and hope you'll let me know what you think of this one. I'm sure it will raise plenty of questions... X_D

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Sundermount, 9:38

Zevran had been watching Kallian, peering over at her now and then as they set traps around the cave where they had been hiding. He knew the signs, the way she rubbed at her neck and rolled her shoulders. It meant one of two things. There were darkspawn in the area or there were Grey Wardens nearby. She was particularly quiet now, a look of deep hurt on her face, and he didn't have to ask, he simply knew. It defied explanation that so many years later, here of all places, they would find him, but that was the only explanation for that look.

"Anders?" he asked.

She jumped, startled both by the sound of his voice and his question, but she nodded and brushed a tear from her cheek. "I think so, but how could that be?" she whispered hoarsely, rolling her shoulders once again. "Nine years. You think I would have forgotten-" She couldn't finish the sentence.

Zevran put his tools down and went to Kallian, pulling her close. "You never _truly_ forget the ones you love."

She smiled at his statement and looped her arms around his waist, tilting her head back to kiss his neck. Her feelings for Anders were complicated, something they hadn't talked about much, and rumor and innuendo had abounded when Zevran first returned to Vigil's Keep. He had been curious to know what was fact and what was fiction, but didn't feel it was his place to ask. Kallian never questioned him about any liaisons he may have had during his absence, and he'd had many. If she took comfort in the arms of a friend, who was he to deny her that? When he thought on it, he had to admit that the thought of her having one meaningful relationship stung more than dozens of meaningless encounters might have, and he did sometimes wonder where he'd be now if Anders hadn't been so foolish and stayed in Amaranthine instead. The feel of her lips on his throat reminded him that she was here with him, and their son was sleeping in a hidden alcove nearby.

"This doesn't change anything, Zev." In spite of his training, no matter how firmly the mask was in place, she had learned to read him like an open book. "Not between us. If…when we're done here, if there's a chance we can find him, I'd like to try. To…say what I want to say and finally be done with it, let it go."

A tension he hadn't quite realized he was feeling ebbed away and he nodded. "Anything for you, tesora."

xXx

Varric was always writing; his companions made it too easy. Whether he was dreaming up exaggerated versions of their actual adventures or spinning love scenes based on stolen glimpses of their various romances, a small part of his mind was always looking for, and creating, a story. Today was no exception. Hawke and Isabela practically moved as one since she'd smartened up and he'd forgiven her, and even now he was sending sparks of electricity down her neck. They pawed at each other so much it was a miracle they were still alive for all the attention they paid to their surroundings. Anders, however, was being far more interesting today than he had been in weeks.

If the mage wasn't holed up in his clinic tending to the undercity's poor and unfortunate, he was hiding out in Hawke's wine cellar, working feverishly on his manifesto and whatever it was he was trying to do with Justice. Normally, getting out of the city seemed a good thing for him, but today he looked to be winding up more than relaxing. As they got closer to Sundermount, Hawke insisted on taking a break to eat some lunch and promptly wandered off with Isabela, likely to fuck her against a nearby rock or tree. Varric and Anders were left to their own devices and after a while of eating in silence, Varric attempted some conversation.

"So, Blondie, what's got you all worked up? And don't tell me it's the mage situation, that's old news. This is more like…when we were in the Deep Roads, looking for that Nate fellow. You're all jumpy." They had been to the Deep Roads together before that, years ago when Varric's brother had betrayed them, but they didn't talk about it any more than they absolutely had to. They'd survived, made their fortunes, dealt with Bartrand, and that was the end of it. Varric wasn't even telling those stories anymore.

Anders took a drink from his flask. "I think a piece of my past is catching up with me, Varric." He looked up at the sunny skies. "The Maker moves in mysterious ways."

He stood and paced back and forth for several minutes before pausing to look up the mountain and take another sip of water. "I wonder…"

"You wonder what, Anders?" Hawke and Isabela stepped back into the clearing, both adjusting their clothing. Varric rolled his eyes. _So predictable._

"I was just thinking about this Antivan we're looking for. He's a deadly elven assassin hiding with the Dalish, and I can feel the presence of a Warden nearby. It's faint, but it's there." He looked pointedly to Isabela, who was paying closer attention to him than she would otherwise. "You said they were reunited?"

Anders and Isabela had mutual friends from their time in Ferelden. Varric tried to recall those conversations during late night games of Wicked Grace, while keeping his attention on this conversation.

"I did. So you think…?" Anders nodded. "Oooh, this might liven things up a bit."

Hawke cleared his throat. "Is anyone going to let me in on this?"

"Well, Hawke, if Anders is right, it's possible that this Antivan assassin we're looking for is Zevran Arainai and his wife, the Hero of Ferelden. Yes?"

Anders nodded. "Stranger things have happened, I suppose." All things considered, if this was the case, the timing was fortuitous. He could beg for her forgiveness and perhaps go to the Maker feeling less guilty about one thing, at least. Shame brought a flush to his cheeks and made him look away from Hawke.

Isabela laughed. "That's what they say. Look, Hawke, if that's the case…Well, let's just say it would change things. I know this couple, they aren't what Nuncio says."

"I guess we'll see when we get up Sundermount. You seem…disturbed, Anders. Differently than usual, that is," Hawke said with a grin, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. Where others had given up trying to get through to Anders, Hawke had remained consistent and it occasionally worked.

"Well, this could go badly for me if I'm right. If she doesn't kill me, he might." He smiled, and while it didn't reach his eyes, it was nice to see.

Hawke gestured to the path before them and the group continued toward the Dalish camp.

xXx

Anders barely gave Varric enough time to disarm the trap before he pushed past the dwarf into the cavern. A handsome blond elf with tattoos on his left cheek stepped out of the shadows, grinning broadly. Anders and Isabela exclaimed 'Zevran' simultaneously, although Isabela purred the name with some familiarity while Anders made it sound like a question. Even now, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Anders, I would not have expected to find you here if it were not for Kallian. Her instincts are sound and even after all these years she could sense it was you." He watched Anders with a keen eye, but spoke to Isabela. "And how good it is to see you again, my lovely Captain."

"Where is she, the Commander?" Anders asked, cutting off any response Isabela may have had ready. He heard her huff indignantly behind him and he resisted the urge to knock her to the ground with a mind blast.

"It's just Kallian to you, Anders. Besides, I don't carry that title at the moment." A soft voice filled with emotion drifted to them from the shadows and it was soon followed by a female elf wearing leather armor that accentuated every curve of her lean, muscular body. Long, curly auburn hair framed her face; green eyes took them all in quickly. "Isabela."

"Hello sweetness," the pirate purred. "Zevran, I see you found your way home to your wife, but not out of trouble. We've been lied to, Hawke, I assure you."

If Kallian heard her, she gave no indication; her eyes were fixed on Anders. The mage and his former commander regarded each other for a few minutes and Hawke tried to gauge the source of the tension between the two. Just when he thought it might be hostile, Kallian stepped forward and threw her arms around Anders' ribs, pressing her face into his robes. Anders stifled a sob and hugged her back, dropping his head to hers. His companions shifted uncomfortably, accustomed to seeing Anders slightly outraged most of the time. Crying was something he hadn't done since Karl's death, so many years ago.

"I'm so sorry, Kalli, forgive me." Anders finally mumbled into her hair. He spoke to her with such a casual familiarity even Isabela appeared surprised.

Kallian pulled back to look up into his face, tears in her eyes, and touched her hand to his cheek. She slapped him then, one hard, sharp slap, before pulling him into another hug.

"I wish you'd talked to me about it, Anders. You turned your back on so much, I just wish…is he…?"

Anders nodded, his expression pained, as he brushed tears from her face. "It has not gone well."

_That's the understatement of the Age,_ Varric thought, watching with great interest. So this was the Hero of Ferelden and her Antivan Crow husband? They were clearly on the run from a cell within the Crows and to top it all off, there was something going on between Anders and the Hero. He felt just a bit uncomfortable standing there watching, but it was worth it. This was a gold mine.

"But why here, of all places, so close to _Kirkwall_, Anders?"

"I run a clinic in Darktown," he said with a bitter laugh. "But the Champion here is kind enough to let me hide out in his wine cellars. I get by." The truth was he had run out of money and couldn't make it any further. When he realized he could provide some much needed assistance in Kirkwall, he had stayed in spite of the danger.

"The Champion? Where are our manners?" she asked her husband with a smile. "Kallian and Zevran, as you may have guessed."

The Champion nodded and smiled, gripping her arm in the soldier's greeting. "Garret Hawke, my friend Varric Tethras, and I gather you know Isabela and Anders."

Kallian nodded, her green eyes glittering. "Yes, I owe a debt of gratitude to the captain." Varric wasn't sure if she sounded entirely pleased about that fact, but she kissed Isabela lightly on the cheek and squeezed her arm.

Isabela softened, a true rarity, and reached out for both the elves' hands. "No, you don't. Look, do you have anything to drink? I gather we have some things to talk about."

Zevran laughed, slipping his arm around his wife's waist. "Antivan brandy seems quite popular with the riffraff here and we have amassed a collection of bottles in our journeys." He turned and called, "Rico? I know you are there, you are not good enough to fool me yet."

After a brief pause, a slight child with strawberry blond hair appeared from within the shadows, eyeing the others warily. He wore leather armor and had a pair of daggers strapped to his back, a smaller, more compact version of his father. "Si, padre?"

"Your mamma and I are going to talk with our friends here. I want you to go back to bed. Come, kiss your mamma good night."

The boy obeyed, running to Kallian's side, and the Warden dropped to one knee, wrapping her arms around her son. "Good night, my darling little rogue." She kissed him on the cheek.

Rico smiled, but made a show of protesting. Zevran ruffled the boy's hair and pushed him toward the back of the cavern. "You scuff your heels sometimes when you walk, Rico," he said with great affection. "Be mindful of that and I may not hear you next time. To bed now. You must sleep."

"Si, padre. Ti amo, mamma!"

Anders stared after the boy, his expression incomprehensible to his Kirkwall companions. "Rico?"

Kallian nodded. "Alberico. It's Antivan, but comes from a dwarven myth Oghren told me once. It means 'elven power'."

"He looks so much like Zev," Anders whispered.

"Ah, but he has his mother's gentle nature and would probably make a terrible assassin. Come, friends, we have much to discuss."

xXx

Zevran and Kallian's story was simple enough. While most of the Antivan Crows had been happy to leave the Warden Commander alone at the end of the Blight, and forget that Zevran had slipped from their grasp, Nuncio was not. He had been Taliesin's close friend and, most likely, his lover. When Fereldan life had managed to return to some semblance of normality, he had drawn upon his personal savings to pursue revenge against Zevran. Wind of the plot against him had reached Vigil's Keep. Varric sensed there was another story there, they way the two dodged questions about how it was they so easily parted ways when the Warden Commander was heavy with child and the arling of Amaranthine was recovering from the darkspawn siege, but he let it go. Anders might indulge him one night and fill in the blanks.

Kallian and Zevran had money enough of their own to fight Nuncio and had clearly done well for themselves, in spite of the fact that they were currently camping in a cave on Sundermount. After nearly a decade and many deaths, the Arainais had driven Nuncio's network of cells out of Antiva and whittled it down to the few men Hawke and his friends had met in Kirkwall. They anticipated that they could return home to Amaranthine for good once they deal with this last group of men.

Varric was impressed. "I remember hearing the two of you had a very public argument about taking over the Crows, but questions about how that ended have never really been answered."

"That was mere theatrics," Kallian grinned.

"Ah, but the makeup sex was phenomenal."

Anders scoffed. "Some things never change, hm?"

Kallian shook her head, staring into the fire. "It will be good to get back home. We have rebuilt and are quite popular with the people of the arling. We have numerous trade agreements with the surrounding landholders and are producing a variety of cheeses, wines and ales, which King Alistair favors, fine woolens and a vast assortment of cosmetics, potions, and poisons." Kallian's eyes lit up; it was clear she was very proud of these accomplishments.

"The keep's market has become such a thriving success we had to double its size and allow stalls to set up outside the curtain wall and along the road. We had a guard of sixty men and women, last I counted, and have managed to recruit an additional fifteen Wardens over the years. That hasn't been easy, now that we appear to be redundant, but we complement the guard, attend ceremonial functions, act as ambassadors with other nations, and are still required to venture into the Deep Roads on occasion."

Anders' story, on the other hand, was full of poverty, sickness, and no end of stories about his unstable relationship with the Kirkwall Templars and Knight Commander Meredith Stannard. He'd spent all his personal money getting out of Amaranthine and setting up in Darktown, and had been living in hiding ever since, eking out a sparse living working for Hawke. If it weren't for the Champion's kindness, especially of late, Anders might well be in the Gallows or worse. Garret could see that Kallian cared deeply for Anders and wondered how he had managed to turn away from her friendship and from the life they shared. It sounded like paradise compared to Kirkwall.

With some difficulty, Kallian managed to say, "And here I'd hoped you would have found a pretty girl and settled down to have babies by now." Tears rolled down her cheeks and she brushed them away hastily.

"I won't lie and say it has been easy, but this was…easier, coming to the Free Marches. I don't regret leaving the Wardens, not now that I see what I've become, but I regret running out on you and the others the way that I did."

"What you've become? I don't understand, Anders."

He shook his head, making it clear he wasn't going to talk about it. "How are Myriani and Talindra? Better off, I imagine."

Kallian was the one shaking her head now. Her voice became hard. "No, not at first, they weren't. Myriani loved you and Talindra looked up to you as she would her father. They were heartbroken, Anders, devastated when you left. I don't know if it helped or hurt matters that they had Ser Pounce to care for, but they were miserable for a while. We all were. You were so many things to all of us, Anders, and I don't think you truly appreciate that. For my part, you birthed my son, you were my confidante, my best friend, my brother, and you were there for me when Zev couldn't be." She cast a glance over her shoulder to her husband, who smiled and nodded.

"To the others at the keep, you were a friend, a healer, and part of that brotherhood so few understand. We have missed you a great deal, Anders, and I have often wished things had turned out differently. If not for this mess with the Crows and recent events, we would still be living out a peaceful existence at Vigil's Keep. Regardless, we have had to carry on. Myriani and Talindra moved to Denerim, to work in the service of the king and queen. One of the King's Guard courted her and they were married four years ago."

Tears were streaming down her face now, but she ignored them, leaning in to point at Anders. "That could have been you, Anders. She wasn't freaked out by the _mage thing_, she loved you, and you were a good couple. I hate what Justice did to you, to her, to all of us, and yet I understand why you agreed to it, and that just makes it worse."

Anders had never looked so defeated in the time Garret had known him, not even after he'd been forced to kill Karl. Later, when they had agreed to help Zevran take Nuncio and his men down the following day, Kallian pulled him aside while Varric had the others distracted with a tale.

"He doesn't look well, Garret."

Garret shrugged. "I don't think he's sick, if that's what you're asking. He is up to something though. Can't get him to talk about it, can't get him drunk enough to spill anything. Justice won't let him drink."

"Pfft. I suppose it isn't all bad, then." Her chin quivered slightly and she cleared her throat. "The king is sending ships to bring Ferelden refugees home. Remember that, if the need arises, not just for his sake, but yours as well. This situation…" She waved a hand at nothing in particular, but he understood her meaning well enough.

"We have post riders and carrier pigeons, and messages to the king and the Hero of Ferelden are treated with priority." She laughed to herself. "The title comes with some advantages."

Garret grasped her arm. "Thank you, Kallian. May the Maker watch over you and your family."

"And you and yours, Garret."

The others said good bye until Kallian and Anders stood facing each other. She stepped close to him and raised a hand to his cheek, laughing when he flinched.

"I should slap you again, Anders, but I forgive you. Just…" her voice broke and Zevran moved to put a hand at the small of her back. "Just know that if you need to, you can…come home. To Amaranthine."

Anders appeared dumbfounded, as though it had never occurred to him that it might be a possibility. He said nothing, just pulled Kallian into a hug and dropped his head to hers. After a time, he reached out to Zevran and the three of them held each other a few moments longer.

"Thank you, Kallian. I'll see you tomorrow, Zev." With that, he turned and left with his companions.

xXx

Months later, when Anders did the unthinkable and Garret found that he couldn't bring himself to kill the man, that moment ran through his mind. Anders had a place to go, people who cared for him.

"Go," he whispered into the mage's ear. "Go _home_, Anders."

xXx

Amaranthine, 9:39

Kallian looked up from the vegetables she'd been examining, unable to reconcile what she was seeing with what she felt in her veins. The man who approached wore a merchant's clothes, a plain cloak, a hat pulled low to cover his eyes. He had close cropped black hair and a full beard, and looked nothing like the man he'd once been, but it was him, of that she was certain. The messages from Isabela and Garret had left no room for doubt. She abandoned her negotiations for the cabbage and turned to watch as he came closer, holding out a hand to stay the guard who stood by her side.

When the figure was finally close enough, he dropped to one knee and pulled his hat off. "My lady, I beg your permission to come home."

Unconcerned about appearances, she cried, and reached out to rest a hand upon his head. "Welcome home, Anders. Welcome home."

* * *

**Translations**

Alberico – I twisted this one a bit. It's Italian, and comes from Alberich. Alberich is derived from the Germanic elements of _alf_ "elf" and _ric_ "power". Alberich was the name of the sorcerer king of the dwarves in Germanic mythology. He also appears in the 'Nibelungenlied' as a dwarf who guards the treasure of the Nibelungen. Source: Behindthename dot com.

Si, padre – Yes, father

Ti amo, mamma – I love you, mamma


End file.
